May. That’s better, Nancy. I’ll run and get rid of my apron and gloves, for fear somebody might happen in.
(Exit door L.)
Nancy. Poor thing! She’s just as anxious to hear from her husband as she can be. I know the symptoms. There’s that good-for-nothing Simon Stone. I’ve not seen him since he took to the candy business; but I’d just give all my old shoes to hear the sound of his voice once more.
Simon (sneezing very loud). Ah-chah!
Nancy (R. starting.) Good gracious! It’s that new gardener come to-day. If he sneezes like that among his flowers, he’ll have everything up by the roots. Look here, sir, that won’t do!
Simon (turning round). Why not, Nancy, is it washing-day?
Nancy. Mercy! It’s Simon Stone!
Simon. It is, Nancy. Your Simon. Come to my arms. (Advances with arms outstretched.)
Nancy (thrusts the duster straight out before her. Simon puts his face among the feathers). Hands off!
Simon (spits and sputters). Phew! Pooh! Nancy, do you want to strangle me?